


WARNING: Emergency Purge Initiated

by mushembra



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AKA Connor gets upgrades, Desperation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, I use it as an excuse to write an omo fic, Mild Angst, Omorashi, Post-Revolution, Wetting, peaceful ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 08:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15385323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushembra/pseuds/mushembra
Summary: With androids being awarded more rights every day, they now desire to experience life to the fullest, and the defecting scientists of Cyberlife are all too willing to invent the upgrades necessary to make them more humanBut CyberLife needs a voluntary test subject, and Connor willingly volunteered for the taskThe day of his release was full of food, drink, and laughs with his father, HankUntil they're called on for a lead on the case, and a very poor android experiences a very new and unfamiliar sensation while at the scene





	WARNING: Emergency Purge Initiated

**Author's Note:**

> Now ya'll know  
> I'm a nasty ass omo fan  
> I'm taking a lot of liberty with like...procedures and terminology and making shit up. I see a lot of people do that with fics and I wanted to put my spin on things...  
> So here you go my dudes
> 
> Oh, and shoutout to the lovely writer Sharcade for inspiring me to write an omo fic in the first place  
> Because shit their fics make me so damn happy

“Any warning indicators? Any…discomfort?”

Discomfort was something foreign to Connor, how would he know if he was feeling it? Though his abdomen did seem to—was this what aching felt like? It wasn’t pleasant, but it was dull, tolerable. Just a sacrifice he was willing to make for technological advancement for his fellow androids.

“I seem to be alright. Nothing I can’t manage.”

“Good. If the sensations post-operation become unmanageable, please contact the number we have provided and we can remotely activate a temporary code to suspend the program for a time. And don’t hesitate to contact us if there are any problems. We are here to ensure the transition goes as smoothly as possible with our hopes these installments can be offered to others in the future.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Connor slid off of the examination room table, LED finally spinning to blue at the prospect of returning home after a week of observation by a group of scientists and technicians. In the wake of everything that happened with the Revolution, there were two factions of CyberLife employees; one that remained loyal to the company attempting to salvage their damaged reputation, and the other that defected. A good number of these people were technicians and scientists, who all along didn’t feel quite right about the objectification of androids during their tenure with the company. To them they were alive and deserved their dignity, and now that they were gaining freedoms and wills to live and a desire to experience life to the fullest, new technologies and biocomponents were being developed to better simulate true humanity. The problem was that these technologies needed to be tested before being offered to the wider public, and for that they needed a volunteer to receive the installments.

Connor was all too willing, being that he was already a prototype and his systems more easily allowed for additions to be attached. He was made as such in the event upgrades and adjustments were needed (though he later found that CyberLife had opted to create a new, enhanced version of his model to replace him in the end). The androids of New Jericho—a sector of Detroit offered to androids to call their own until new laws became more widespread across the country where they could move to if they chose in the future—were very interested in these enhancements, yearning to know what it was like to eat, to drink, to sleep, dream, physically feel sensations more deeply. It was what made up Connor’s mind, despite Hank’s outspoken reservations about it. He understood the concern. It was a risky installment procedure to overhaul his systems the way he did, but in the end it was for a good cause and his father relented.

Connor dressed himself quickly, then made his way to the waiting room, where Hank was sitting slumped over in what looked to be one of the most uncomfortable chairs, eyes glazed over with boredom as he watched the news anchor drone on and on about who knows what. He was quick to perk up when his son walked out, and that look of relief to see him was enough to tug at the android’s pump, a soft smile pulling to his lips.

“Well, looks like they uh, put your back together well enough. Not missing a toe, or a finger or anything, are ya?”

“Hank, you know the installations were confined to my abdominal and cranial—”

“I know, I know. Jesus fucking Christ it was a joke. Come on then, I’m starvin’. And yeah, yeah, I know they said take it easy on the uh…stomach thing you have now but if you just eat a little bit you should be fine. That and a drink wouldn’t hurt, huh? Read that upgrade pamphlet and it saaaays there’s a program that interfaces with your mouth lab shit that’ll detect alcohol and simulate getting drunk?”

Connor couldn’t help but chuckle at the oh so eloquent way of phrasing, but he gave a nod regardless. It _was_ their off day. He had a feeling he knew where Hank was going with this.

“If you’re getting at what I believe you’re getting at, Jimmy’s works for me.”

 

\-------------- 

 

Inebriation was a very strange feeling. Connor felt light-headed, giddy, swaying in the booth seat as he slowly munched away on a small number of cheese fries (Hank set aside a small portion of them to keep the very eagerly tipsy Connor from harming his new stomach). Liquids would be fine during recovery. Solids he was told to keep to a minimum for now. It didn’t stop a sneaky hand from trying to reach across to the plate in front of Hank, and the amused man slapped it away playfully.

“Ah! What did I say?”

Connor gave his best pout, sipping from his third beer. The taste was strange, very strange. He tried some of the swill of a beer that Hank drinks, but he found himself gagging. He swung for something with a citrus flavor added, and was absolutely in love with it. He could sit here and drink it all night, chattering and bantering away with Hank. Since deviating, the android always wondered what experiences he was missing out on by not being human. Just being free was enough, more than enough given how close he was to being deactivated, but this operation has proved there is so much more to experience. So much to live for now, and he wanted to experience it all.

Of course, their happy little bliss was cut short by Hank’s phone going off. He ignored it as was his custom when he was out boozing, so the caller opted to reach out to Connor. People knew how often they were together, so when they couldn’t reach the Lieutenant, they knew the ever reliable android would pick up.

“Hello, Connor speaking. How may I help…youuuu?”

Connor and Hank both gave a little snicker at his slurred speech patterns, but he sobered up pretty damn quick at the sound of the Captain clearing his throat on the other line.

“Oh, C-Captain Fowler! How may I be of assistance, sir?”

“Look, let me cut to the chase. I know you and Hank are off, but we got a lead on that psycho deviant going around chopping androids up to bits. Bastard is slick, so I couldn’t let this chance slip. I need you and Hank at the scene ASAP. You can have tomorrow night off. And Connor, I heard about your little surgery, and I _know_ Hank. Keep your composure.”

“Yes, Captain. We’ll head out now.”

Connor could see Hank shaking his head, running a hand down his face as he quickly downed the rest of his beer.

“Welp, duty calls. No rest for the wicked, no damn rest for us. Guess that’s what we get for being the best damn homicide investigators on the force. Lets get to it then.”

Connor stood up carefully, thankful that it seems his balance wasn’t so heavily affected by the alcohol he couldn’t make his way on his own two legs. He did notice a sensation, however. A discomfort in his lower abdomen, lower than the ache and discomfort he felt earlier. That and there was a strange pressure he felt as well. It was a bit concerning. Maybe the number of drinks he had was overdoing it. Was this sensation normal post-operation? It couldn’t be normal. Maybe he was just overthinking it, worrying over nothing. Once he was at the crime scene with Hank with something to keep the focus of his mind on, he was sure the discomfort would be pushed to the back of his mind. He would be fine.

 

\------------------

 

Connor would not be fine. An hour since they left the bar and 45 minutes at the crime scene, and the discomfort was mounting exponentially, as was the pressure. He couldn’t help but fidget, pressing his legs tightly together as the feeling of absolute fullness could be felt quite low in his loins. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. The android chewed at the inside of his cheek as he readjusted himself in his trousers, cock starting to ache quite terribly. He had the capability of feeling sensation of sexual arousal in what used to be just a cosmetic appendage, but this couldn’t be what lusting felt like. It was too anxiety inducing, too uncomfortably tight and warm. Maybe he should give the technicians a call.

“Hey Connor!”

Connor jolted on the spot, crossing one leg over the other as he shuddered, turning to look at Hank who was giving him the most puzzled look. The man noted how the android had on hand over his abdomen, the smallest of frowns tugging to his lips.

“You feelin’ ok there son? Didn’t overdo it at the bar did you?”

“Perhaps, but we shouldn’t be here too long. I can rest when we arrive home. Just…one more room to examine.”

“Well, let me know if you need to just cut our losses. I’ll take the heat from Fowler, but I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard.”

Connor nodded, waiting for Hank to walk into the next room before recrossing his legs, bobbing up and down, an embarrassing whine escaping his lips. Oh he felt so full, so full like he would burst. He shouldn’t have eaten that food, drank all of those—

Drink.

That’s when it finally hit Connor full smack in the face. Of course he wouldn’t know what was wrong, because he’s never experienced these new human sensations before. Exhaustion, aching discomfort, the body’s signals of needing relief from what was consumed. In short he finally realized he needed to take a leak, and pretty badly if this desperately full feeling were any indication. Those three beers were settling into his artificial bladder, and though it was made of a strong sort of latex-like material that was engineered not to split, it would only expand and accommodate so much before the pressure was too much. And he was warned what would happen should he not willingly purge his waste; the new system would automatically open the release valve. Essentially, he would wet himself if he didn't relieve himself of his fluids.

“Ooooh…”

Connor reached his had between his legs to give himself a long, hard squeeze, glancing towards the other room with much apprehension. He wouldn’t be able to relieve himself until they left the scene. Doing so while there was against protocol and highly unprofessional. So he had no choice but to hold it. How much longer he could hold it, he wasn’t sure. He knew a warning was supposed to alert him when preliminary valve releases began in an attempt to relieve pressure, to allow him at least a little decency to find a bathroom before a complete purge should he not do so in a timely manner after consuming liquids. However, he was also warned that the interface to his alerts may take a while to completely integrate and update, so there’s a chance they wouldn’t pop up until it was too late. So to continue investigating was a huge risk. But he was a healthy model, functioning optimally, and he could hold his fluids. He could. He was the most advanced prototype CyberLife had ever engineered.

So, after taking a deep breath, Connor removed his hand from his crotch, and walked as carefully as he could into the bedroom, trying his best to maintain his composure. There were books scattered all about, drawings and symbols of a disturbing nature all over the walls, drawn in thirium (presumably of a victim or more), and all manner of macabre statues. Though could they be classified as statues when the sick figures were made from the parts and bodies of androids? The perpetrator was just flying in the face of the law, leaving their sick work for them to see plain as day. It was disturbing to say the least, and yet not the least bit distracting given the androids dire situation.

“Looks like they had themselves a little too much fun…how fresh is that blue blood? Could actually be at the most recent haunt instead of some old, abandoned place like last time.”

“Right, give me…”

Connor walked stiff legged to the adjacent wall, breath coming in short gasps. Breathing too deeply pressed the waist of his trousers against his abdomen, and though he had a hard, plastic exterior, the new system seemed to pick up reference sensations for his new touch receptors, and it felt so much like the fabric was pushing into his bladder. So full; how did humans do this? Oh he couldn’t do this. He just wanted to relieve himself, _needed_ to relieve himself. Just a little longer, just—

“Ngh!”

Connor tensed up, feeling a wetness between his clenched legs. Suddenly a warning popped up into the corner of his visual field:

**WARNING: Fluid Containment reaching maximum pressure**

**Initiating emergency decompression**

**Voluntary purge advised before emergency purge is initiated to prevent damage**

“Oh no, no, no…”

It seemed he had far less time than he originally believed. Connor needed a bathroom, and he needed one now! This was passed desiring to wait. He simply could _not_ wait! With shame burning his face, the android shoved his hand into his trousers, gripping his dripping cock tightly. He could feel the dampness of his underwear, and it made him shudder and the need seem worsen.

“Connor, seriously, what the fuck is—”

“Bathroom.”

“Whoa, wait—”

“Hank.”

“Connor, just—”

“Hank, I need to piss!”

Connor couldn’t keep himself composed, couldn’t keep himself calm. He was frantically desperate and was almost willing to relieve himself anywhere in this worn down building if it weren’t for the fact he wanted to maintain at least some of his dignity. It was bad enough he was caught with his hand down his pants, squirming like a 4 year old who needed to tinkle.

“Why didn’t you go before we left? Or just fucking tell me?!”

“I didn’t know! I didn’t—oh god Hank I don’t think I—”

He was going to burst. He was going to explode all over the floor in front of Hank like a child. He didn’t want to, but he wasn’t sure he was going to have a choice. The warning continued to flash, insisting he find a solution; or else.

“I need…Hank I _need_ —”

“Ok, I gotcha, I gotcha. Come on. We can uh…ah! Come!”

Hank grabbed Connor by the arm, leading him toward the front door, and the android couldn’t help the pitiful little gasps and whines escaping his mouth. He could feel a wetness creeping down his legs as some of the liquid he was holding managed to get through his grasp. He tried to will his body to hold his liquid, but he just couldn't, the valve acting as an artificial sphincter opening against his permission. His underwear was becoming alarmingly wet, and tears from the discomfort and humiliation of it all pricked at his eyes. He was going to wet himself. He couldn't wait. He couldn't hold it. Connor stopped dead in his tracks, crying out as a long burst escaped his cock, wetting the front of his dark trousers.

"Oh Haaaank, I can't wait. I can't, I can't!"

Connor could do nothing but writhe on the spot, a sob escaping him as he shook his head, willing the alarm to leave his visual field. Then, the inevitable happened.

**WARNING: EMERGENCY PURGE INITIATED**

"Oh nooo, no, no!"

Connor crouched down, gripping his cock so tightly it hurt, his other hand gripping through the front of his pants, but nothing could stop the torrent of liquid now pouring from him. He could feel it soak through the fabric, hissing and splattering on the old wooden floor beneath him. All Hank could do was stare, shock and a bit of guilt bubbling in his gut. He was so used to how Connor's systems used to be he hadn't thought to suggest he visit the bathroom before leaving. Of course the poor kid wouldn't know the warning signs his body was giving him. Now here he was, a crying, soaked mess in the middle of a crime scene. Yet for however much the android was humiliated, the relief from the pressure was immense.

"Oh shit...mmmnnn...H-Hank I...I'm--"

"Hey, son, don't say it. It was an accident. Accidents happen. This is all uh...very new for the both of us so just...let it all out."

Connor felt his father's hand on his back, a comforting weight as he finally released his grip and allowed his body to purge in full force. He couldn't help the pants and moans of relief, the humiliation and relief giving way now to a new feeling--exhaustion. Trying to contain himself left him tired, wet, and wanting nothing more than to go home. And Hank, ever perceptive, seemed to pick up on that easily.

"How about we call it a night? This shit'll be here in the morning. I'll let Fowler know you...weren't feeling well, we'll drop by tomorrow, then I'll make you some of that mac n' cheese Cole used to like so much."

Connor sniffled, wiping the tears from his face as he rose shakily to his feet. Becoming more human seems to come with a lot of ups and downs, but as he sat beside his father on the way home, thinkin back on the night of laughs they had, he decided with a smile that no amount of bad can replace the good feelings he's had and the memories he was making. He wouldn't trade becoming more human for anything.


End file.
